Meanwhile...at the Hall of Tight Ends...

Scene: The nefarious Hall of Tight Ends, located on Isla Cozumel.

SHOCKMEISTER: (bangs gavel at podium) Order! Order will be had at the Hall of Tight Ends! (Puts on reading glasses) Now, I've called this meeting so that you may help me plot my vengeance against Kevin Boss!


JERRAMY: Bully for you, sir! And when do we plot my revenge against John Carlson?!?

SHOCKMEISTER: Uh, after we pull off this mission.

JERRAMY: And what about getting back at the Bucs for ditching me in favor of Kellen Winslow?


SGT. WINSLOW: Uh, I'm sitting next to you, asshole.

JERRAMY: Oh go get staph infection, soldier boy.

(Both men stand up, knock over their chairs and make a giant fuss for the next ten minutes, getting other people in the Hall of Tight Ends to "hold them back" so they don't "fight" one another.)

SHOCKMEISTER: Are you ladies done here? We got important business to attend to! (Everyone quiets down, regains their seats.) You two can hug it the fuck out after the meeting, K? Now, first of all, I'd like to congratulate another member of "Da U" in joining our fine establishment. Please give it up for Greg Olsen!

(Half applause as Olsen stands up to say a few words at the podium.)


OLSEN: Yo, yo, yo! E'rybody betta give it up for G-Reg, getting head from ALL the cheerleaders...

(Shockmeister cuts him off.)

SHOCKMEISTER: Yeah, that's great, G-Reg. Now please go and find your seat. It's somewhere away from the microphone. Thank you.

(G-Reg sulks off.)

SHOCKMEISTER: Any other business to be taken care of?

(A hand goes up.)

SHOCKMEISTER: What is it, Brent?


BRENT C: Yeah, I talked to the Captain Morgan people like you asked, J-Shock, but the CEO said the company wouldn't be paying any of our fines for doing the pose. Guess that means we have to abandon Operation Moneymaker.

(Moans and groans go up over the crowd. Shockmeister bangs his gavel again.)

SHOCKMEISTER: Fuck's sake, Celek! You're a God damned fantasy football stud this year! You're telling me the CEO of Captain Morgan wouldn't listen to you?

BRENT C: 'Fraid not, dude.

SHOCKMEISTER: Fuckin' fuck!

(Shockmeister pauses to regain his composure.)

SHOCKMEISTER: As you all know...(fights back tears)...Uh, we here, well more specifically, I have been plotting to strike back at Kevin Boss for stealing my job with the New York Giants. Now, what can we do to get back at him? Yes, Sgt. Winslow.

SGT. WINSLOW: Well, I wanna take this tall drink of water to boot camp! Make him crawl under some barbed wire! Fire shots overhead! Get in his face and get loud! Make him do, like, I dunno, something like 100 pushups or something! And situps! LOTS and LOTS of situps!! Chin-ups, too!!!!

SHOCKMEISTER: Okay...What say you, G-Reg?

OLSEN: I goin' to stick my third leg in his ear, yo!

SHOCKMEISTER: How colorful. Next...Jerramy?


JERRAMY: Yeah, uh, I could take his sister out on a "date."

OLSEN: I likes where yo head is at, Jer'Mee! You be dropping that shit like a member of the Seventh Floor Crew and shit!!!

SHOCKMEISTER: Dude, seriously?! You're kinda getting on my nerves here, okay? Chill the fuck out, G-Reg. Maybe go to Blockbuster video and convince the girls you're really Eric Christian Olsen or something...

BRENT C: I don't have any plans for this...

SHOCKMEISTER: And why not?

BRENT C: Dude, I'm not in it for your revenge fantasy, I'm only in this shit for the money. Maybe I can get an online casino URL shaved into my head next week...

SHOCKMEISTER: Fuck, doesn't anyone have anything POSITIVE to contribute here?!?

(A Hall of Tight Ends page runs up to the podium and hands the Shockmeister a note, who then reads it aloud.)

SHOCKMEISTER: After a thrilling performance against the Buccaneers Sunday, Dave Thomas has decreed that Wendy's will offer two for one deals on a medium frosty and junior bacon cheeseburger at all Wendy's locations Monday and Tuesday. Fuck me...

(Shockmeister bangs gavel.)


SHOCKMEISTER: Okay, next week's meeting will be about plotting my revenge against David Thomas! Tight ends, away!